Nice, frumpy little woman who works behind the counter in our local Red Cross shop had just come back from France. She hated their food, ate fish and chips instead. Wearing a classic white Lacoste polo. "Did you buy that over there, then?" "No, my sister-in-law was throwing it out". Conspicuous consumption gone mad? The irony was, they'd been offering a snide and there she was, wearing the real deal and not knowing the difference!
^ Reassuringly xenophobic. You never hear about the folk who used to pack their own grub for holidays in Spain anymore.
Or Douglas Jay, who used to take his own Shredded Wheat, in case those dastardly frogs and krauts gave him cheese for his brekker.